


Frosted Flakes 30% Off

by gaytimetraveller



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I cannot believe I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2639267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytimetraveller/pseuds/gaytimetraveller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homura can't find her favourite sweater, and blames Kyoko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosted Flakes 30% Off

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe i actually wrote this it was just supposed to be a joke

“Kyoko, what the fuck did you do with my sweater?” screeched Homura, flinging t-shirts everywhere. The redhead herself walked into the room, clad in a nerdy tracksuit, and managed to spot said sweater in about five seconds, underneath a few books. Of course, she didn’t say anything, it was more fun to watch Homura throw stuff around. The raven-haired girl herself whipped around, glaring at Kyoko in a way that would’ve made most people back away in fear. “Well?” she snapped.

The redhead flung her arms up in self defense. “Jeez, what kinda pervert do ya take me for? I didn’t take your sweater, maybe ya just left it somewhere. Maybe it was Mami?” Homura sighed, angrily muttering something about idiots, and continued throwing stuff everywhere, especially in Kyoko’s general direction.

Moments later Kyoko barely dodged a flying sneaker. “Useless asshole,” Homura muttered, flinging a DVD at the wall. “Fucking idiot redhead took my sweater,” she threw a particularly well-aimed trophy from a bowling contest straight at Kyoko’s face. “Asshat Kyoko,”

“Wait, did you just call me an asshat?” Homura didn’t even look up, instead throwing a rack of CDs at a wall, at least three of them shattered. “Fine then, arsehole, I won’t help you.” She walked out into the hall, another well-aimed shoe (this time a stiletto) flying in her direction as she left.

Of course, she ended up out in the kitchen, and poured herself a bowl of cereal, smiling to herself as more crashing sounds came from Homura’s room. “I wonder who pissed in her bitchflakes this morning…”


End file.
